


It's just paint.

by orphan_account



Category: Attack on Titan, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, snk - Fandom
Genre: ? - Freeform, Au - domestic living, Fluff, M/M, Uhm, domesticated cliché, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 21:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1241176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically a short, domestic, cliché drabble of JeanMarco fighting over what colour to paint the bathroom (this has probably been done before).</p><p>Marco always gets his way, but it's not like Jean complains.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's just paint.

"We’re not painting the bathroom turquoise, Marco." Jean dead pans, barely even looking at his boyfriend. He has his nose turned up slightly as he continues to scan over the colour panels. Turquoise for the bathroom? What  _was_  that boy thinking? Turquoise would not go with the bathroom furniture they currently had, and Marco was the one who  _bought_  the furniture in the first place. Jean was sucked out of his thoughts by a piece of paper being flapped in his face frantically.  
  
"It’s not  _turquoise_ , Jean, it’s sea foam _green_.” Marco preens at his boyfriend, tone educating and short, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. How was  Jean to know? Turquoise, bloody sea foam green- it was all the same thing in his eyes. One thing was final, though, they were not painting the walls ‘sea foam green’. What was this? Jean felt like they were in a cliché American sit-com; fighting over what colour to paint the bathroom. It was ridiculous.  
  
"it's just paint-"  
  
"-paint that we're using on our bathroom walls, Jean."  
  
"Does it really matter? I don’t like it, and _I_  won’t be painting  _our_  bathroom that colour.” Jean knows he sounds like a little brat, throwing a hissy fit over such a simple thing but come on; who wants to waste their time doing something that won’t suit their interests in the long run? Not Jean, for sure. Marco doesn't seem to like that.  
  
"And what colour do you want to paint the bathroom, Jean?" He questions, faking interest in Jean’s point of view on the subject. His petal pink lips twitch upwards at the corners, threatening a knowing grin. Jean has  _n_ _o_ clue about colour scheme, or what will go where in the bathroom, but he _knows_  that grin too well. Jean takes Marco’s snipe at him as a personal challenge of some sort, though he's not sure how to win in this one.  
  
Marco has a talent to use that adorable face of his to get his own way; usually little squabbles like these end in passionate kissing, touching and Marco winning. In the end, Jean never really minds, but he doesn't want to give in this time. It seemed the scoring was a constant balance of Marco:1 and Jean:0.  
  
"When it comes down to it,  _babe_ ," Jean emphasizes the nickname for an effect, eagerly taking in the way it hooks Marco's interest. Even more so than before. "It's going to be me painting the bathroom. Not you." Jean finishes off, continuing to push the shopping trolley down the paint isle. He's going nice and slow, almost like he's some sort of elderly woman. "Anyway, we both know you'll make me paint the bathroom regardless of what colour we choose." Jean is waiting for Marco's response, but he doesn't exactly get one.  _Weird_.  
  
It's.. Grilling. The silence drives Jean insane after nearly ten minutes. This _has_  to be a new strategy Marco is using against him, another trick he's playing to get Jean to give in to what he wants. When Jean glances over at his boyfriend, the slightly shorter male is sighing melodramatically, fiddling with the coloured pallet paper in his grasp. Jean reaches out, snagging the paper from Marco's hand, letting out a frustrated sigh himself. It's not /too/ frustrated, it's more of a -I can't believe I gave into you again - sigh.  
  
"Fine-"  
  
"Fine?" Marco interrupts, softened and dramatic expression contorting into one of happiness. He's definitely pleased, that's for sure. Jean can't help the fond smile tugging onto his own lips at the sight of him. He's adorable, but cocky sometimes. Jean loves him too much for his own good, and Marco's.  
  
Instead of the cliché scene Jean had set out in his head - one where Marco giggles, flushes and pecks his boyfriend sweetly on the lips for agreeing - he gets a smug look and a pat on the chest.  
  
"Thank _god_. I don't think you would have picked a very nice colour. Besides, I think this will go nice with the white counter top." Marco gushes, already locating a can of 'sea foam green' paint. It's silly how quick he's able to do things once he gets his own way. Jean feels the word 'child' balancing on his tongue, but all that comes out is a fond yet barely audible chuckle.  
  
It's just paint, after all, and this is just Marco getting his own way again. It's not like helping Marco paint the bathroom the following weekend is a bad thing, especially when his boyfriend ends up shirtless with paint splatters across his skin. Maybe - _maybe_  - letting Marco win isn't always such a bad idea. Jean counts this one as Marco: 2, Jean: 1

**Author's Note:**

> (((This is probably very bad. If you read it, thank you.. It is my first bit of writing..)))


End file.
